Killing Me Softly

by Devyn Dawson

  The club smells like stale beer, even though the place is spotless. It’s full of mirrors with a huge dance floor in the middle. The stage area is small, but it’s raised up higher than everyone. It’s set up like a Juliet balcony but large enough for a band to play. One of the tables by the dance floor has a big RESERVED sign and “tate and holland” in lower case underneath.

  Everyone followed us to the Green Room where a waitress is available to take drink orders. Only Tate and I are allowed to drink for free. No one seems to mind that I’m not twenty-one. I was too nervous to bring my fake ID to the club. The waitress didn’t card us so I ordered a wine cooler.

  Tate’s using a different guitar tonight, this one is black with a plain black strap. “Let’s go over “These Boots”, that’s the one we need to work on.”

  He stays standing and I turn to face him. He scoots closer to me, and for a moment I’m lost in Tate-land. The one that only he and I are the residents and no one else matters. The guitar is beautiful across his chest. It’s so high-glossed I can see my reflection in it.

  “You’ve got this Holl, you really do,” Tate says softly. I look up into his eyes and I believe him, for no other reason than I’m infatuated with him. He strums the guitar as we fall into sync and we sing this old song that his genius-self made hip and cool.

  I can do this! I shout in my head.

  We’ve been in the Green Room for over an hour before our names are called to go on stage. Tate takes my hand and holds it to his lips. “Here we go. I’m with you every step of the way.”

  Words escape me. I look up at him and nod my head. If my heart pounds any louder, I’ll never hear the music. This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.

  Oh, God, we’re walking onto the stage. From the balcony, I don’t have to worry about being ten feet away from someone’s face. I focus on the song he’s singing, a Death Cab for Cutie song. Bethany was right, it’s sexy the way he plays his guitar. Every second, every note, I’m floating away in his world. I blush when he catches me staring at him. He’s facing the crowd, but I stand at an angle to avoid eye contact with the audience. The song is over, which means it’s my turn to sing. Tate looks at me, flashing his heart melting grin and my insides turn to mush. A wave of fear washes over me but his reassuring smile and a quick wink of his eye gives me the courage to sing.

  We’re standing sideways to the audience, I’m singing to him and he’s singing to me. I know I’m nervous, my body sways side to side, and my shoulder is moving to the rhythm of our song. The microphone is awkward in my hand, I think I’m holding it up too close.

  The crowd is yelling and applauding so loud it startles me out of my trance. I squeeze my eyes tight, wanting the memory of this moment to burn into my brain. He takes the guitar and starts playing it again, now we’re doing our version of “Say My Name” and the crowd is eating it up. I glance up at him as we sing and he smiles back to me. I’m jittery with nerves but we get through our songs and absorb the audience cheering for us when we take a final bow. I’m drunk with adrenalin, barely able to keep my feet on the ground.

  We barely get to the Green Room when he scoops me up in his arms and twirls me around. While he’s holding me, I lean down and kiss him on the mouth. He sets me down and takes his guitar off his back before we tumble down on the couch. He wrestles me to my back and his mouth crashes to mine. Tongues dancing. Heart beating. Soul jumping for joy. My legs are wrapped around him, we kiss and grope until someone knocks on the door. Breathless, we sit up and Tate yells for them to come in.

  The waitress brings over two glasses of champagne, from the manager. I’m trying to be discreet as I smooth down my hair.

  “Would you like anything else,” she asks. We both shake our head back and forth and watch her walk out the door.

  “We should go out into the club,” Tate says and holds his hand out to me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away. You were so amazing, I just got caught up in the moment.”

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too.” No I’m not! “We’re taking this slow.” Like HELL!

  He kisses me and wipes my lip with his finger. “Come on beautiful, time to go fight the guys off you.”

  “Whatever.”

  “That was AMAZEBALLS!” Bethany yells over the music as Tate and I walk over to the group.

  The table is filled with empty beer bottles and mixed drink glasses. The waitress is on her way over with a tray of shots. She sets it down and the guys all hand the waitress money. They set a shot in front of us too.

  “On the count of THREE we all drink at once!” Tracey yells.

  Tequila. No salt. No lemon. Cruel.

  “Ugh, that was tequila!” I say and set the shot glass down.

  “That was eighteen hundred, smooth as hell,” Don announces. “You were great tonight, thanks for having us come out. Man you’ve been holding out, you sounded awesome. She brings out the singer in you.”

  Who me? He was singing pretty fantastic at the bookstore the night I met him.

  People start to walk over, and telling us how good we were. A couple of girls try to flirt with him, but Bethany and her drunk-self let them know he is taken. Drinks are being sent over from people who saw us sing. It isn’t long before I’m feeling a little more than buzzed by the way my face is numb and I want to dance. Bethany and I hit the dance floor, stumbling around as we attempted to dance. Tracey comes out and she puts us to shame with her inner JLO. She’s bumping her ass up and down like a professional twerker. If I were sober, I’d be embarrassed.

  A guy who resembles one the guys from Jersey Shore comes over and asks if I want to dance. I tell him I’m already dancing. He asks if I want to dance with him. I tell him as nice as possible that I’m happier dancing with my friends. He walks away muttering under his breath. A new Flo Rider song comes on and Tracey squeals out that we are staying on the dance floor. The Jersey Shore guy comes back, this time with two beers in his hand. He goes to hand me the beer but I shake my head no. He’s saying something to me but I weave my way to the other side of Bethany. The guy dances his way over to me and I shake my head no at him again. Before he has the opportunity to say anything else, he’s being grabbed by the back of his shirt.

  “She said she didn’t want to dance with you, now leave her alone!” Tate shouts. I’ve never seen this side of him, the jealous side. If I have to be honest, it’s sweet to have a guy come to my rescue.

  “You don’t know what she wants. You weren’t over here,” the guy slurs.

  “She’s my girlfriend, and I watched her say no to you. Now be a man and walk away!”

  “What are you going to do? Huh?” The drunk chides.

  At the moment when Tate is about to punch the guy, Don grabs his hand. “He’s a punk-ass, don’t waist a good punch on a dick.”

  A good punch?

  “Let’s go, we have the limo for the night. Anyone up to going to Sonic for some food?” Don asks our table as we all come off the dance floor.

  No, I want to go back to what we were doing on the couch in the Green Room.

  Tate and one of the bouncers ran up to get his guitar. We stayed as long as the contract said we had to and left.

  ***

  Tracey makes a fresh batch of margaritas as soon as we get to the house. The guys stopped at a gas station and picked up cigars and beer.

  “What’s going on with you and Tate? I thought it was just for fun that first time you came over. Now we never see him, because he’s with you,” Tracey says and points at me. The drinking has caught up to her. She’s holding onto the granite counter top for balance.

  I’m buzzed and eager to keep my buzz going so I drink a margarita. My taste buds are dead from the shot of tequila we had earlier, so I’m immune to the tequila flavor. “Tate and I are just having fun. We’re taking it slow.”

  “Slow? You call the way the two of you look at each other slow? Girl you’re funny.” Tracey finishes off her drink and pours another one. She forgot to salt the rim of
the glass and she’s failing miserably as she tries to pour salt on the rim.

  “We look at each other like anyone else who’s in a relationship,” I shrug and sip on my drink. Without warning, Tate’s crossed the room and his arms are around me.

  “See, just like I said, you two are in this deep. Like shit, deeeeeeep shhhhhh iiiit,” She’s slurring so bad, she doesn’t make any sense.

  “Tracey, are you drunk?” Tate asks.

  “I’m not drunk. You ever seen me drunk? I’m a drinking….machine,” Tracey says as she stumbles across the room to the couch.

  Tate kisses the top of my head. “The limo’s still here, do you want him to take you home?”

  “No, I called my dad, he’s fine. He’s taking some kind of miracle medicine and he’s halfway normal now.” His shirt smells like a cigar, but I snuggle into his chest anyway. “Do you know how to play Seven? Let’s go play it!” Suddenly, Seven sounds like the best game EVER.

  ***

  Why is it so damn bright in here? I try to roll over but the weight of someone’s arm is across me. He pulls me in tight. I ease back into him and he pulls me in tighter.

  OH SHIT! AM I NAKED? I have no memory of going to bed. Please don’t let me have had sex with him and not remember. At least if I lose my reclaimed virginity, I want to remember that shit. MY DAD! CRAP, I LEFT HIM ALONE! I move my hand to touch my boobs, I have my bra on. My panties are on too. I nonchalantly move my hand to check if he has pants on. He does. We still could have had sex and I put my stuff back on. My bladder screams for me to wake up. I wiggle out from under his arm and sit up. Oh God! Sitting up was a dumb idea. My stomach gurgles. I’m going to barf. Don’t barf. Yeah, that’s not working. I leap up from the bed and stumble to the bathroom where I puke my guts up.

  “Holl, you okay?” Tate asks.

  “Not so much,” I whimper. I didn’t have time to lock the door. The doorknob turns and here I am in all my barfing glory, head in a toilet, wearing only a bra and panties. His hand is on my back , caressing it as I heave in the toilet. Go away! This is not sexy.

  Tate rustles around in a cabinet. He turns on the water for a total of five seconds. Something cold and wet is on the back of my neck. No one other than Andy has nursed my hangovers and no one but Andy has nursed me at all since I was thirteen. I close my eyes at the memory of my mom holding a cold rag to my forehead when I had a fever. She was beautiful in that country girl way. Her hair was light brown that would turn dark blonde in the summer. She only wore make-up to work and scrubbed her face clean when she got home. I loved her so much, she was kind and we baked cookies together. I’ve suppressed these thoughts of her for years, I replaced them with anger. I’ve thought of her as weak and selfish for leaving her young daughter and sick husband. Hangovers have always made me sentimental and weepy, this one is no different.

  “Tate, you don’t have to be in here. This isn’t the image I want you to take with you on your TDY thing.”

  He chuckles. “Holland, all images of you are beautiful to me. Even hung over Holland is sexy. You were pretty sexy in the bed last night.”

  Oh shit! “Did we have sex?” I say barely audible.

  “Wow, I can’t believe you don’t remember.”

  I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole. “I’m sorry, I don’t drink very often and it was the tequila and…”

  “Nothing happened, stop freaking out. I had to carry you to bed and helped you out of your clothes. Hope you don’t mind. I tried to do it with my eyes closed, but that’s hard to do with someone flopping around.”

  Ugh. “I hope I didn’t embarrass you in front of your friends. I’m sorry.” I can’t even turn around to face him, I’m so embarrassed.

  “Holl, you didn’t embarrass me. You drank everyone under the table. They didn’t even see me carrying you to bed. That game did everyone under.” He placed a hand on my back as he talked. “You needed to let loose, we had fun. On a more serious side, would you like some ice water or anything?”

  “If they have any pink stuff and something for a headache that would be nice.”

  “No problem.”

  Maybe no problem for him, but for me, it’s the most embarrassing moment with him. I have puke in my hair and I need to brush my teeth. I’m never drinking again.

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen. Picnic

  It’s been over two weeks since Tate went away for training. He was gone for five days, but it felt like a lifetime. I’ve been busy with the store and getting enrolled in my fall classes. It was amazing to pay for my classes without taking out a student loan. I’m already in debt for six thousand dollars. The club in Norman liked us so much they had us out this past weekend.

  The weather has been so hot that the lake water has receded. We haven’t even taken the motorcycle out because it has been so hot. Thankfully,we’ve been going to the Waffle Shack to work on our songs. We’re regulars now and the staff likes it when we sing. There’s usually not anyone around after eight. Periodically, a random straggler will stop in and have coffee.

  Today’s the first Sunday I’ve been off work. Sam went on a family vacation, so I’ve been working the floor more than usual. All of the employees have been scheduling vacation time, making it harder for me to get days off.

  “Hey beautiful, you look like you belong in a magazine. For the life of me, I can’t see what you like about this country boy. I was trying to find something fun to do, I’ve never been to the Omniplex, would you like to go?” Tate asks as he holds open the truck’s door for me. He walks in front of the truck and does some crazy dance for me. This is what I like about him, he can be fun and silly just like me.

  Today I decide to do something I’ve never done before, hopefully it won’t throw him off too bad. I take the center console and lift it up. He glances at me sideways, but doesn’t say anything. I scoot over next to him. The lap-belt is deep down in the crevasses but my hand is thin enough to reach in and grab it. Tate is still watching me with his crooked grin plastered on his face. “In answer to your question, the Omniplex sounds fun. I haven’t been down to the science museum since grade school. Oh yeah, do you mind if I sit next to you? I see couples in trucks do this, so I wanted to try it out.”

  “Of course you can sit here. Only one thing makes a nice truck better, is a pretty girl to sit next to the driver. My grandma called this morning, she wanted me to say hello to you for her. Consider yourself told.” He takes his phone out and types in the address for the Omniplex before he drives off.

  “Is everything okay on the farm?” It feels strange sitting so close to him. “Did you tell her about our singing?”

  He lets out a heavy sigh. “Not yet. She’s been under the weather. My mom took off with some guy she met on the internet. Grandma thinks they went to Las Vegas. Either way, my mom left her alone to care for the ranch. I’m not surprised, my mother has wanted to go traipse off and not worry about the farm for years. She’ll be back in the fall when he’s had enough of her. That’s how things have gone with her my entire life. Enough about her. How’s your dad?”

  We still haven’t had dinner together. I try not to talk about Tate too often. It’s a balancing game when it comes to my dad. The medicine has been keeping him calm, but I’ve heard him crying late at night. I’ve sat up with him to ease his mind that I’m not going to run off and get married. He’s fixated on me getting married too young and having children before I have a career. “He’s fine. The guy he does plants for is coming to get him and they’re going out for lunch. That’s pretty huge, he doesn’t go out with other people very often, or ever. He tried to turn the air conditioner off last night and we had a small disagreement about how hot it was in the house. I’m sorry, but I can’t handle being hot. With my extra hours and the money from singing, we’re able to keep it a little cooler than usual. It isn’t like the thermostat is turned down to freezing. We keep it at seventy-four, but last night it was still in the nineties when we went to bed. The house was ove
r eighty inside because he turned the air off. Aren’t you glad you asked? You’re protecting our country on a daily basis and I’m having arguments with a mentally unstable man. I can’t imagine what you tell your friends.” Sitting on the hump of the center seat makes me feel like my head is blocking his review mirror. I try to scoot down without looking like a hunchback but if I sit up straight, I’m obnoxiously tall.

  “I tell my friends the truth. I’m dating a girl who’s beautiful inside and out. Your heart has been battered but you still found room to let me in. We can’t help who our parents are, and what nonsense they do in their lives. We are living for ourselves. When you and I met, you were sad. In your store you were confident and strong, but at the bookstore you were sad. I’m only guessing here, but I think you felt guilty for having a good time without your friend, Andy.” He pats my thigh, one simple touch sent my heart skipping.

  “I think you’re right. When she died, it was like a sister was ripped away from me. That reminds me, her mom called me and asked us to a cookout for the Fourth of July. It feels strange going over there without Andy to bounce down the stairs and announce ALL HAIL THE QUEEN! At the top of her lungs. She was her own entertainment, we were her faithful audience. If you don’t want to go, I totally understand.”

  “If it means I get to meet someone who you care about, I’m game. My unit is having a picnic this weekend. Would you like to go? They’ll have food and a volleyball tournament. Oh, and we’ve been asked to sing. My C O called me in his office yesterday and asked about us performing. I agreed to sing and told him I’d talk to you. I’m not sure if you have to work or anything.” A semi pulls into our lane almost taking out the front end of the truck. I yelped without considering the distraction it would cause Tate. “Holland, are you okay?”